


to watch you fall

by suspendrs



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU, Breakup, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Wedding, a lil smut, thats it i think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-06
Updated: 2015-04-06
Packaged: 2018-03-21 14:36:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3696005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suspendrs/pseuds/suspendrs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Louis shakes his head and smiles dreamily, distractedly. "You're a lot cuter than I remember." The lights from the ceiling hit the ring on his finger and the glint distracts Harry from the comment.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Harry rubs at his eye and his other hand tightens on his cart handle. "I remember you were very drunk and very uncoordinated. But thank you, anyway."</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Or, Harry is lonely and Louis is engaged to be married.</p>
            </blockquote>





	to watch you fall

**Author's Note:**

  * For [breastlumps](https://archiveofourown.org/users/breastlumps/gifts).



> title from This by Ed Sheeran
> 
> i'm gifting this to sumer bc she wrote it too but she won't take credit for it so bye

This is possibly the worst date Harry has ever been on. His chicken was cold, the loudest man he's ever heard in his life is sitting a few tables over, and his date won't stop talking long enough for Harry to get a word in. He sits with his chin propped in his hand and pokes idly at his uneaten dinner, nodding along to whatever his date is rambling about now. At least he’s kind of cute, Harry thinks, and looks up at the guy. He’s talking with his mouth stuffed full of food, spitting little pieces of it all over as he just jams more in. He must be on some sort of prank show or something because he thought people like this were only on stupid TV shows or exaggerated movies. 

But he believes it when a tiny piece of food hits his cheek. He pushes his chair back abruptly, startling his date enough that he quiets for a minute. “I need to use the bathroom,” he announces, turning on his heel and walking quickly away from the table.

Once he gets into the restroom and sees that it’s empty, he breathes out a curse and continues on mumbling about how terrible this date is and how he’ll have to punch Nick in the face for setting him up with an unmannered douchenozzle. While he talks to himself, all of the wine that he inhaled prior hits him suddenly, and he’s got to wee. He walks over to the urinal, when another male comes stumbling into the vast restroom. He immediately walks over to the organized desk and looks around at it, touching the soap bars and towels. He takes uneasy steps to the stall right next to Harry and unzips his pants, and Harry refuses to look in his direction. There’s about six other stalls the guy could choose from but, of course, he’s peeing haphazardly five inches away him. Turning his head, Harry tucks himself away and is about to walk away when he hears the splash of liquid hitting leather. He looks down at his shoes only to see the stream of piss die out.

“Oops!” The man giggles drunkenly, situating himself away. Harry stares at his feet in shock because a man just pissed on his new dress shoes in a bathroom, and he thought this date couldn’t get any worse. He looks up at the man, who he finds is actually kind of attractive now that he gets a good look, so he really can’t be _that_ mad him.

“Hi,” Harry breathes. Once the guy gets his zipper done up and is satisfied with his work, he turns to look at Harry with an apologetic smile. 

“I’m really sorry, oh no,” the man slurs, grabbing one of the small towels from the sinks and dropping to his knees in front of Harry, trying to clean up his shoes.

“Oh, that’s- that’s okay,” Harry stutters, because when the man looks up at him again his face is literally inches away from his crotch, and maybe this date isn’t so bad after all. “I mean, well, it’s not okay, these are brand new, but you don’t have to clean them up,” he shrugs, stepping back a bit and watching the man stumble to his feet.

“Shit, I’m so sorry, they’re new? Here, I’ll buy you a new pair,” the man says, reaching into his pocket for his phone. Harry just looks confusedly at it when it’s held out to him, cautiously taking it from the man’s hand. “Put your number in, so I’ll be able to contact you as soon as I replace your shoes,” the guy clarifies. His eyes are wide and apologetic, and he looks a good deal more sober than he had when he first stumbled in here. Harry takes the phone and taps his number in, leaving his first name but not his last. 

“Harry,” the guy says as he takes his phone back and looks at the contact, “I’m really sorry, again. I’m Louis,” he says, reaching out to shake Harry’s hand. Harry knows Louis hasn’t washed his hands yet but hell, he already has the guys piss soaking through his sock, so a little on his hand as well won’t hurt.

“You really don’t have to replace them, Louis, it’s okay. They’re quite expensive, and they were a gift anyway,” he shrugs. The last part may be a lie, but he’d feel bad taking such expensive shoes from a stranger, even if he was the one who ruined them in the first place.

“It’s really not a problem, and I’d feel horrible if I didn’t. Money isn’t really an obstacle, my boyfriend is quite well off,” Louis says over his shoulder as he finally goes to wash his hands. Harry’s stomach drops to his toes at that, _boyfriend_ , but it’s fine. He was thinking of maybe just asking Louis for an apology blowjob instead of a new pair of shoes, but that’s clearly out of the question now. It’s fine.

“Oh, right. What does he do, then?” Harry asks casually as he steps up to the sink beside Louis, washing his hands as well. They both carefully ignore the way Harry’s shoe squelches just a bit when he takes a step.

“He’s a doctor, he works in the emergency room,” Louis hums, smiling just at the thought of the guy. “He’s not home often but he’s there enough, and what he can’t do in person he makes up for in gifts,” Louis chuckles, but he looks happy and Harry’s heart hurts a little.

“Oh, wow,” Harry hums, taking one of the neatly folded towels from the sink and drying his hands before dropping it into the basket in the corner. “I work for a bank. I’ve actually just recently been promoted, I’m an executive now,” he grins, and Louis just smiles and nods at him. Harry panics for a moment, wonders if he’s over shared, but then Louis gives his arm a little squeeze.

“Congratulations,” he smiles, and if it’s not the prettiest smile Harry’s ever seen then fuck. They walk out of the bathroom together and part ways just before they get to their tables, which aren’t too far apart. Harry realizes that Louis’ boyfriend is the incredibly loud man Harry had been whining to himself about earlier, and he rolls his eyes as he sits down. Of course some obnoxious prick like that gets someone as attractive and sweet as Louis.

Harry’s date immediately starts chattering again when Harry sits down, and he wonders if the guy ever even stopped while he was gone. Probably not.

Harry keeps sneaking glances over at Louis every now and again, watching the way his eyes light up and he smiles so fondly at the man across from him. Then Harry looks over at the man he’s having dinner with and sighs, wondering what it would be like to meet someone attainable that he actually liked. He busies himself with grimacing internally about how the man he's with chews loudly with his mouth open, only snapping out of it when he hears people beginning to cheer. He looks over to see what’s happening and notices that Louis’ date isn’t in his seat anymore, and Louis looks like he’s crying. Harry frowns for a moment until he realizes what’s going on, and then he really frowns.

Louis’ boyfriend is on his knee in front of Louis’ chair, presenting something to the boy that Harry can’t see from this angle. Louis has a hand over his mouth and is nodding vigorously while people at surrounding tables cheer for them. Harry watches as Louis’ boyfriend, or fiance, he guesses, slips the ring onto Louis’ finger and then stands up, bringing Louis up with him and kissing him hard in front of everyone. Harry thinks he might puke.

He actually gags when he feels his date’s hand sliding up the inside of his thigh a moment later, and he turns to see that the man has gotten closer while he’d been distracted. “I have to go,” Harry mumbles, stumbling out of his chair and making a beeline for the front door of the restaurant.

**

He toes his shoes off before he walks into his house, carrying them to the garage and tossing them straight into the trash. He peels his wet socks off as well and throws them away too, before going upstairs and running a bath. He strips off his clothes and then settles into the warm water, letting it calm him down from his mostly terrible night. He grabs his phone off the side of the tub and opens his conversation with Nick, typing out a new message. 

_Fuck you, that guy was horrible. I’m never letting you set me up on a date again,_ he sends, and then turns his phone off and puts it back down. He stays in the bath until his fingers and toes start to prune, finally getting up and drying off as he walks into his bedroom. He climbs into bed still mostly damp and completely naked, falling asleep quickly and sleeping through the night. 

When he wakes up and turns his phone on, he has five new text messages. The first three are from Nick last night, and the last two, which are from earlier this morning, are from an unknown number.

_**Nick:** LOL_

_**Nick:** Sry i knew u’d hate him just wantd a laugh_

_**Nick:** R u mad at me harold_

He sighs and texts back _yes_ , but before the text even finishes sending he types out _no not really but ur a dick_. He closes out the conversation and opens the texts from the unknown number, frowning as the previous night comes back to him.

_**Unknown:** hey whats ur shoe size ??_

_**Unknown:** oh this is louis btw the guy that pissed on your shoes last night oh god sorry_

Harry chuckles to himself and makes a contact for Louis, before opening the conversation again and typing a message back: _Size 13 :) Thanks again for replacing them._ Louis responds just a few seconds later, while Harry is still lounging in his bed.

_**Louis from the toilet:** its the least i can do_

_**Louis from the toilet:** which brand were they ?_

_**Louis from the toilet:** actually nvm ill just get the most expensive ones i can eric wont mind_

Harry frowns at that, hating that not only is Louis about to buy him the most expensive pair of shoes he can find, but he’s going to do it with his fiance’s money. Desperate to keep talking to the boy for some reason, Harry types out another text.

_Oh yeah, congratulations on the engagement! I saw it happen._

_**Louis from the toilet:** thanks !!! i was so surprised but im rly happy :)_

Harry frowns again at that, deciding to just leave it there lest he get attached to this boy who is clearly in a great relationship. A relationship that Harry secretly hopes will crash and burn before the wedding.

But then again, he really doesn’t want that. Something about Louis just makes Harry want the best for him, no matter what that may be. Louis is too special to be sad, Harry thinks. To special to be sad, or hurt, or alone ever. He’s known him for like, less than twelve hours, but he thinks he’d already be willing to donate blood or an organ or a limb if Louis needed it. He’s just that kind of guy.

He wallows in bed for a bit longer before he finally gets up, pulling on a pair of sweatpants and making his way downstairs to the kitchen. He kind of hates living in this big house all by himself, wishing he had someone else here so he could make breakfast for two instead of for one. In the middle of making eggs on toast his phone buzzes again, and he checks to see a text from Louis.

_**Louis from the toilet:** abt to order the shoes just need an address for them to be shipped to ?_

Harry sighs and then texts Louis back with his address and another expression of thanks, before taking his breakfast and going to the living room to eat on the couch.

**

There is no food in Harry’s house. For someone who likes to cook and bake as much as he does, he does relatively little food shopping, which almost always results in him running to the grocer’s on a completely empty stomach because all he can find in the fridge is ketchup and a few stray bottles of beer. He's hardly left his house at all in the few days since his failed date, and his pantry is paying the price. So here he is, pushing his cart through the store and humming softly to himself, ignoring the rumbling in his stomach at literally everything he sees. He’s debating on whether he should buy frozen broccoli or fresh broccoli when a tiny weight comes out of nowhere and slams into his side, sending him stumbling over and nearly taking out the produce display.

“Jesus,” he huffs, righting himself and then looking over to see a young boy, probably about six or seven, being yelled at by who is presumably his father. Harry doesn't pay much attention, deciding to just move along and go with the frozen broccoli so he can get the hell out of here and go home.

“Sorry about that, sir, he’s a bit rambunctious,” says a familiar voice, and Harry turns around and nearly screams at who he sees standing there.

“Louis?” He says, all thoughts of frozen broccoli gone from his mind at the sight of the man’s confused face, like Harry looks familiar but he can’t recall from where. “Harry, from the restaurant? You pissed on my shoes,” he clarifies, eyeing the two kids that are running in circles around Louis now, the boy apparently chasing a younger girl with a cucumber as a weapon.

“Oh, oh yeah,” Louis grins, though he blushes deeply. “Right, right, I remember you. Still really sorry about that. Did the shoes come?” He asks, scratching at the back of his neck as he stares up at Harry.

“Yeah, they came. Thanks again for that, by the way, you really didn’t have to,” he hums, but Louis is still just staring up at him. “What?” Harry chuckles nervously, wondering if he has dried toothpaste on his face or something that Louis is staring at.

Louis shakes his head and smiles dreamily, distractedly. "You're a lot cuter than I remember." The lights from the ceiling hit the ring on his finger and the glint distracts Harry from the comment.

Harry rubs at his eye and his other hand tightens on his cart handle. "I remember you were very drunk and very uncoordinated. But thank you, anyway."

Louis itches at his thigh through the cotton of his sweats, his cheeks a bright pink. “That was stupid of me, sorry.”

Harry gives a shaky chuckle and looks at some of the food surrounding them. The little boy tosses the cucumber at the girl and it hits her in the leg. Harry’s concerned for a short moment before she giggles loudly, picking it up and bringing it over to Louis. She tugs on his pant leg, pulling the waistband down a bit and exposing the top of Louis’ hot pink boxers.

“Are those your children?” Harry asks, pointing to the two and ignoring the flashy undergarments.

Louis shakes his head. “God, no. Definitely not, no,” he rushes, like he can’t say no enough times. “I’m a babysitter, and they’re my friends little ones.” He smiles anyway. The boy comes up and looks at Harry cautiously before he starts yanking at the other side of Louis’ pants.

“Oh, uh, sorry for assuming. I just thought that-” Harry starts, fumbling. 

“Yeah, a lot of people do. I’ve got that single father look to me, I suppose.” Louis chuckles. “This is Lily-” he pats her head, “-and this is Josh. Josh, Lily, say hi to Harry.”

Harry smiles and waves at them. Josh nuzzles his nose into Louis’ thigh and Harry is almost a bit jealous. Lily waves like a polite young girl and then looks up at Louis.

“Is he the one you’re gonna be with forever, Lou?” She asks, blinking at him and pointing at Harry. Harry coughs into his fist and Louis blushes as he bends down on his knee, careful not to knock over Josh. 

“No, Lily. That’s Eric, not Harry.” She puts her hand on his cheek and pouts sadly. Harry watches the scene unfold, Josh watching Harry curiously. Lily leans up and whispers something into Louis’ ear that has him shaking his head and whispering back.

Harry clears his throat. “Well, I’m gonna get going now. Have a nice day,” He says, giving Josh a small smile before pushing his cart away. Louis stands behind him and mutters a ‘bye’ before Harry turns the corner, looking at bread.

When he picks up a loaf of bread, he sighs to himself. He wishes he was with Louis so he wasn’t so lonely, but he thinks that it’s purely just a longing to be with someone physically, not emotionally. Harry hasn’t gotten laid in months and Louis is so fucking _fit_ , but so fucking _engaged_. There’s a feeling somewhere deep in him that knows he’s a piece of shit for even thinking that so he decides to push the topic of Louis completely off his mind, finally searching the frozen foods. 

**

Harry manages to forget about Louis somehow in the next few days; his expensive shoes are pushed to the back of the closet where he’ll find them again when he needs them, and his text message thread is pushed down far enough by other threads that Harry can’t even see it unless he scrolls. He also manages to forgive Nick after the horrible date, even agreeing when Nick texts him to ask if he wants to go sit in the park and annoy the locals.

It consists mostly of Harry sitting quietly and watching while Nick catcalls and tries to flirt with everyone that walks by, and eventually Harry is so zoned out that he can’t even hear him. “Harry,” he hears, startling out of his daze as Nick elbows his side. “ _Look_ at that guy’s ass.”

Harry looks on instinct, immediately finding the ass Nick is pointing out. The guy is small and curvy and almost familiar in a way, but his back is to Harry and Harry can’t really be bothered to think too hard about it. He focuses more on how the smaller guy’s hand is laced with a slightly larger, broader man’s, and his heart aches with want.

Nick lets out a loud whistle in the guy’s direction and Harry rolls his eyes, playing on his phone as to not seem involved in this in any way when it goes downhill. He hears someone, presumably the larger of the two men, yelling at Nick, asking him who he thinks he is. Harry doesn’t even budge, though, because Nick got himself into this situation and he’ll weasel his way out of it, too.

“Harry?” Someone says after a moment, and Harry looks up from his phone to find Louis smiling down at him. The guy with him, his _fiance_ , right, has stopped yelling at Nick and is instead just looking with revulsion at Harry, as if wondering where on earth Louis would know him from.

“Oh, hi,” Harry mutters, sitting up a bit and trying not to be too obvious when he looks at Louis’ fiance. The guy looks strong and built, a handsome face and seemingly expensive clothes. Harry already doesn’t like him very much.

“Harry, this is my fiance, Eric. Eric, this is Harry, the guy who I bought those shoes for?” Louis hums, apparently oblivious to the tension already forming between the two men. Harry looks at the way Louis has practically wrapped himself around the guy’s arm and slouches back against the bench he’s sitting on, his heart giving a painful throb. He extends a hand to Eric and they share a brief, awkward handshake before they both drop their hands and look away.

“I’m Nick,” Nick announces loudly after a pretty tense moment, wrapping an arm around Harry’s shoulders and jostling him a little bit. Harry just lets it happen, staring at where Louis’ petite little hands can hardly wrap all the way around Eric’s biceps. Eric can probably give Louis everything he’s ever dreamed of, and Harry feels a bit like crying.

“Are you dating, then?” Louis asks, and Harry looks up at his face. He looks apprehensive, like he wants the answer to be no, and Harry can’t imagine why. Before he can say anything, though, Nick starts laughing like Louis’ just told the best joke in the world. He removes his arm from around Harry to curl it around his stomach, laughing loudly and obnoxiously until Harry is forced to shove him right off the bench.

“No, absolutely not,” Harry scoffs, though he can’t help but smile fondly at the way Nick curls up on the ground and keeps giggling to himself. “Completely, one hundred percent not dating,” he sighs, looking back up toward Louis.

Louis just smiles at him, crinkled eyes and sharp little teeth on display, and Eric pulls him possessively closer to his side. “We should be going, then,” Eric says lowly, and Harry’s stomach drops at the way Louis shivers and nods.

“See you, Harry,” Louis hums, letting Eric lead him back down along the path they were going before they were interrupted. Harry reaches down distractedly to help Nick up off the ground, watching after Louis without realizing.

“You like him, don’t you?” Nick sings, poking Harry in the ribs and tickling him until Harry relents and nods.

“He’s engaged, though,” he whimpers quietly, and Nick coos a little and pulls him into his side for a cuddle. Harry lets it happen, pretending for just a moment that he’s not as alone in the world as he actually is. That guy is probably going to take Louis home and make him feel so good and happy and loved and needed and Harry can’t stop himself thinking about it, nuzzling close to Nick and huffing out a sad breath. He doesn’t understand why his feelings for Louis are already so strong, he’s talked to the guy maybe three times, but the thought of not having him makes him want to cry.

“Drinks?” Nick asks after a while, and Harry waits a second before he nods.

“Drinks.”

**

Two hours and too many empty bottles later, Harry is properly pissed. He had given his phone to Nick a while ago, not fully trusting himself with it because he's made drunk calls before, and he doesn’t care much for the earfuls he gets afterwards. This time there's a little more at stake, he thinks, what with being infatuated with Louis and all that. He's literally a love-drunk sod who wants Louis so desperately, and who has work tomorrow. 

He pushes down another bland gulp past his lips, his mouth feeling the burn as well as his brain. He searches the bar for Nick, and a few minutes later he comes to the conclusion that he's officially lost the only person he knows here. He whines quietly to himself and turns around, surveying the pub and trying to decide where the bathroom might be located. He stands up from his bar stool and sways a little on his feet, waiting until he regains his balance enough to take a step.

He immediately stumbles over and falls against the person closest to him, who happens to be shorter and less sturdy in stature. He grabs hold of the man’s shoulders to keep himself upright, which nearly results in him taking both of them down. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Harry slurs, still clinging to the guy as he tries to get his feet under him. The guy is swearing at him in what is either a thick Irish brogue or a different language, trying to shove him away, which just makes Harry cling a little harder as he tries to remain standing. Finally he gets himself into a position where he can stop clinging to the angry little Irish guy, letting go and turning around to apologize. Before he can even open his mouth, however, a fist meets his face with so much force it sends him over backward.

He cries out as he hits the ground, hands immediately going up to his face as blood streams steadily from his nose. The people around him are moving away, trying to see if the fight will continue, but luckily for Harry it doesn’t. Someone helps him up and he leans against them, hands still cupping his face.

“Shit, sorry. Didn’t mean to hit ya, got a little caught up,” says the Irish guy, and Harry peeks one eye open to look at him. “That might be broken, fuck. Fuck, Zayn,” the guy calls suddenly, and Harry flinches at the sudden volume of his voice. Irish boy informs his friend, Zayn, Harry guesses, that he’s going to take Harry to the hospital. He then proceeds to lead him out of the pub, flagging down a cab while supporting Harry against his side.

“Thanks,” Harry mumbles as he practically falls into the cab, using the sleeve of his shirt to soak up the blood from his nose.

“Least I could do,” Irish guy shrugs, and then looks at Harry. “I’m Niall, by the way,” he says, holding out a hand and then putting it down slowly when he notices how both of Harry’s hands are covered in blood.

“Harry,” Harry introduces himself, voice nasally from the blood blocking his nostrils. The ride to the hospital isn’t long but Niall talks the entire way, and Harry is only able to pick out about every third word of the gibberish.

They’re handed a roll of tissue paper and seated in the emergency room upon arrival, Niall muttering to himself about how ridiculous it is that they have to wait thirty minutes to an hour for medical attention in the _emergency_ room. The wait actually takes longer than that, as it always does, and by the time they’re called to see the doctor Harry’s nose is no longer bleeding and most of the blood all over him is mostly dry.

Harry is led into the examination room by a nurse, Niall following close behind like he doesn’t want to be left in the waiting room all by himself. Harry sits up on the table with some help, still dizzy with alcohol and woozy from blood loss. He lets the nurse clean him up a bit and look at his nose before the doctor comes in, and Harry’s eyes narrow immediately.

“Eric!” Niall says, and both Harry and the doctor turn to look at him in surprise.

“Oh, hi Niall,” Eric smiles, but it looks a bit forced. Harry doesn’t understand how anyone could have to force a smile around someone as cheery as Niall. Eric turns to look at him next, looking him over with a slightly more disgusted look than the one he’d gotten in the park.

“Harry, right? You two know each other?” Eric asks, tucking his clipboard under his arm and leaning against the counter like he has nothing else in the world he needs to do. No wonder the wait is so long.

“Yeah, well, kinda,” Niall shrugs, looking up at Harry and wincing. “We just met a few hours ago. He’s pissed and I punched him,” he explains, and Eric just laughs. Harry hates him a little more.

“Well, let’s see, then,” Eric sighs, walking closer to where Harry is sitting and tilting his face up with a finger under his chin. Harry stares at the ceiling so he won’t have to look at Eric’s face, letting the man examine him for a moment.

“Good work, Niall,” Eric grins after a moment, and both Niall and Harry frown in confusion. “It’s definitely broken, but it’s a quick fix,” Eric says, and Harry rolls his eyes. He grabs at the table he’s sitting on and squeezes tight as Eric holds his nose and pushes it back into place, a fresh trickle of blood running over Harry’s lips. He tries not to show his pain at all until Eric has left the room, groaning loudly as the door shuts and holding another tissue to his face.

“Such a prick,” Niall mutters as he stands up, helping Harry up as well. “He’s engaged to one of my best mates. How do you know him?” Niall asks as they walk out of the room together.

“Oh, yeah, I know Louis too. Not well, but, he pissed on my shoes in a fancy restaurant and the rest is history,” Harry shrugs, and Niall stops dead in his tracks.

“ _You’re_ the cute banker that Louis pissed on? And then bought you new shoes?” Niall says loudly, and Harry blushes at the word ‘cute’.

“Yeah, I guess that’s me,” he chuckles, scratching at the back of neck.

“Harry, one more thing,” he hears from behind him, and he turns to see Eric jogging up to him. The man pulls him aside, out of earshot of everyone else in the hallway, and leans in close. “If I find out that you’re spending time with Louis when I’m not there, I will break something much more valuable than your nose,” Eric hisses and Harry raises his eyebrows in shock as he turns on his heel and walks away. When Harry turns back to Niall the boy is frowning, but Harry just shakes his head and starts walking.

Niall pays for his cab home as a final apology, as hard as Harry tries to convince him that everything is fine. It’s close to 2 in the morning by the time he gets home, immediately stripping down and getting into the shower. He rinses away all of the blood and dirt from the pub before he dries off and climbs into bed. He wonders if any of this will get back to Louis, what he’ll think of Harry now, but before he can work himself into a frenzy about it he falls asleep.

**

He wakes up with a sore head, a bruised nose and a text from Louis.

_**Louis from the toilet:** i heard niall punched u in the face.._

It got to him, Harry thinks, great. Harry wonders if he heard what his fiance said as well. He’s a little scared to text Louis, if he’s being honest. He probably doesn't need to be afraid of Eric, but he is. 

_Funny story actually_ , he texts, setting his phone down on the sink next to his toothbrush. He looks up at the mirror, his nose swollen and red. He has black and blue bags under his eyes, from being tired or the broken nose, he doesn’t know, but he knows he’s going to have to call off work. He’s hungover and sore and still pretty sad, and he cannot go into the office like this.

His phone buzzes twice in quick succession, and when he looks he sees he has a response from Louis and a text from Nick.

_**Louis from the toilet:** i’m sure :) niall thinks youre pretty cool and wants to know if youll hang out with us some time ?_

Harry smiles at his phone for a solid thirty seconds before he frowns, remembering what Eric said to him before he left the hospital. Harry works out a fair bit and could probably hold his own in a fight (when sober), but Eric is literally a doctor and would know exactly how he could cause the most pain, Harry assumes. He battles with himself for a moment before texting back, letting out a long sigh. Instead of just letting Louis know that his fiance is a possessive piece of shit like any normal person would do, he decides to risk it.

_Sounds fun, Niall seems like a blast. Love to hang out :)_

He stares at it for a moment after he’s sent it, before tapping the screen to see what Nick has to say.

_**Nick:** heard u got in a fight lol u ok_

He rolls his eyes and decides to ignore that text until he’s gotten a few more hours of sleep and his head is pounding a little less. He calls to let his boss know he won’t be coming in and then turns his phone off, pushing it under his bed and curling up in his duvet.

He naps for a while, and when he finally wakes up he feels okay enough to eat. After some toast and a glass of water he goes back to his room to dig his phone out from under the bed, intending to text Nick back so that he won’t worry. When his phone powers on, though, he has a few new texts from Louis.

_**Louis from the toilet:** yes !_

_**Louis from the toilet:** me and niall are getting pizza and watching movies at mine u in ?_

_**Louis from the toilet:** Eric’s on call tonight and probably won’t be home until morning _

The last text was sent about an hour ago. Harry chews at his lip for a minute, staring at his bedroom wall and thinking it over. There are a few ways he could go about this. One, he could just tell Louis what Eric said and tell him that he doesn’t think it’s a good idea for him to come over while Eric isn’t home, for fear of Louis’ fiance snapping his neck. Two, he could make up an excuse and stay out of it, and eventually he’ll move on and forget about Louis altogether. That doesn’t seem likely to happen, though, so he keeps thinking. He could just go, pretend Eric’s words were an empty threat and not worry about it, have a good time with Louis and Niall. The last option is stupid, though, he knows that, and he knows that even if Eric doesn’t physically hurt him for doing exactly what he told him not to, he probably will find a way to make Harry regret it; he seems like that kind of guy. He absolutely cannot go with the third option.

So, naturally, he goes with the third option.

**

When he gets to the address Louis had texted him, he seriously considers just turning around and going home. The house is absolutely massive, and not even in a tacky way. It’s gorgeous, something fit for a prince. He supposes Louis deserves to be treated like a prince, though, which he clearly is. It makes his head hurt a little, because even though he makes probably about as much money as Eric, maybe a bit less, he never puts any of it toward nice things, because he doesn’t really care about nice things for himself. If he had someone to spoil, though…

He tries to get himself off that train of thought and gets out of the car, making it halfway to the door before going back and actually shutting off the car, taking the keys out of the ignition. He shakes his head at himself and tries again, making it all the way to the door this time and ringing the bell. It’s quiet for a moment but then Harry can hear the patter of quick footsteps getting closer, can picture Louis scurrying along to the door to let him in.

“Harold!” Louis grins when he opens the door, and Harry could cry when he looks at him. He’s in a pair of comfy sweatpants and a loose t-shirt, his hair soft and swept messily over his forehead. “Come in, come in. Niall’s not here yet, running late as always,” Louis hums, stepping aside to let Harry in.

Harry looks around as he steps over the threshold, trying not to let his jaw drop. It’s basically just one big open room, with a high ceiling and a beautiful staircase. Immediately inside the door is the living room, complete with a big, cozy looking L-shaped couch, a few very plush armchairs and a massive TV. There’s a long dining table between that and the kitchen, which is at the back of the house, a wall of windows looking out over the beautiful backyard. Everything looks pristine and neat, and Harry takes off his shoes before he’s even all the way through the door for fear of messing something up and having Eric hate him even more than he already does.

Louis is already shuffling over to the couch, his little socked feet making a quiet noise as he drags them along the hardwood floor. Harry follows after him, sitting down on one side of the couch while Louis curls up in the corner where the two sides meet. Harry has to really work to not crawl over and cuddle up with Louis, tucking his legs under himself in the corner of the sofa and biting at his lip. After a few minutes Louis groans, and Harry looks over to see what the problem is.

“Niall isn’t coming,” Louis sighs as he taps away on his phone, and Harry’s heart beats a little faster. “Looks like it’s just us.”

Harry gives Louis a smile, even though he’s freaking out inside. Not only is he spending time with Louis after Eric’s threat, but he’s spending time alone with Louis _in Eric’s house_. This could possibly be the best and very last day of his life.

“Can we still get pizza?” He asks after a moment, instead of making up an excuse for why he has to leave like he should. Louis laughs brightly and nods and Harry feels himself smile for real, all thoughts of his imminent death gone from his mind when Louis smiles at him.

“Course. Mind if I use your phone, though? Mine’s almost dead,” Louis hums, and Harry hands his phone over immediately.

“I’m just gonna use the bathroom?” Harry hums, and Louis points to a door next to the kitchen while he dials the number of the pizza place.

Harry hurries into the bathroom and closes the door, taking a deep breath. Even the bathroom is beautiful, fuck. Louis probably loves his life here, he would never want Harry and his stupid, messy, ugly house. He doesn’t even know what he’s doing here, to be completely honest, because he knew that from the start. He knows Louis will never want him like he wants Louis, and he knows that the more time he spends around the guy the more he’s going to fall for him. He decides he’ll stay for the pizza and then leave when they’re done, and go home and have a little cry about the fucking _orchid_ in the corner of the bathroom and how spoiled Louis is and how much he must love it.

He leaves the bathroom a few seconds later before Louis starts to think he went in there for a shit, walking back and plopping down on the couch. Louis is off the phone so Harry reaches out to take it back from him, but Louis just holds it up and gives Harry a look.

“Louis from the toilet?” He asks, raising his eyebrows at Harry. Harry has no idea what he’s talking about for a moment but then he gets it, blushing hard when he realizes that Louis must have seen his contact name. “Really, I thought we were better friends than that. I’m offended, quite honestly,” he huffs, but he’s smiling. Harry takes the phone back sheepishly when it’s handed to him, smiling back at Louis. “You don’t need to worry, though, I fixed it for you,” he says, smiling smugly.

Harry looks at him suspiciously and then unlocks his phone, looking for Louis’ contact. ‘ _Louis <3333_’ it reads, and Louis has even taken a silly selfie with his eyes crossed and set it as his contact picture. Harry kind of wants to set it as his wallpaper, it’s so cute.

They make small talk for a while until the doorbell rings, and Louis tells Harry to pick out a movie while he gets up to get the door. Harry walks over to the shelf of DVDs and looks through them, hearing Louis at the door behind him thanking the delivery boy sweetly and closing the door.

Harry grabs a random movie and puts it in while Louis sets the pizza box down on the coffee table and sits on the couch, before going to sit down next to him. They’re closer than they were before so they can both reach the box, and once they both have a slice of pizza and get comfy, their knees are touching. Neither of them move or do anything, and Harry has to stuff the pizza in his mouth to keep from smiling.

Before Harry knows it, the pizza is gone and they’re finishing their third movie of the night. Harry hasn’t even thought about leaving since the first time, but when he checks the time on his phone it’s well after midnight. They’ve been cuddled up since about halfway through the second movie, Louis’ head nuzzled in the crook of Harry’s neck and his feet tucked under Harry’s thigh. When Harry looks down he finds that Louis is asleep on his shoulder, and Harry’s heart melts. He really should leave but Louis looks so, so cute like this, Harry can’t bring himself to wake him up.

He would carry him to bed, but he’s not sure he wants to see his and Eric’s bedroom. If it’s as lavish and expensive as the rest of the house, Harry might actually cry. So he sits up a bit and carefully tries to lift Louis’ head off his shoulder so he can lay him down on the couch, but Louis snaps awake.

“No, stay,” he mumbles, wrapping his arms around Harry’s waist and nuzzling into his chest. Harry stills and Louis hums contentedly, apparently falling back to sleep. Harry gives it a moment and then tries again, but Louis whines.

“Eric, no,” he whimpers, eyes still closed as he practically crawls into Harry’s lap, still holding him tight. Harry feels sick, the thought of Louis being like this with someone as horrible and mean as Eric making his stomach turn and his blood boil.

“Louis, I’m not Eric,” he whispers frantically, and Louis finally opens his eyes and looks up at him. He squints at him in the dark and then quickly moves away, and Harry really does think he could cry.

“Oh, sorry,” Louis breathes, rubbing at his face a little. “I thought you- um,” Harry cuts him off, smiling and standing up.

“No, it’s okay. I should go, though, it’s late. You should go to bed,” he says quietly, and Louis nods. He stands up with a yawn, running his fingers through his messy hair and patting Harry’s chest lightly.

“Yeah. Goodnight, Hazza,” he hums, turning away and walking up the stairs as Harry lets himself out. He hears Louis’ sleepy voice saying the nickname over and over again the whole way home, and falls asleep to the memory of how nice it felt to have Louis hold him like that, even if it was only because Louis thought he was someone else.

**

Three whole months and a stream of constant messages later, Harry would say he and Louis are proper friends. 

Of course, though, not without the constant fear of Eric doing something to Harry. He plays it safe when he’s around Louis, not giving away too much and never ever touching him. A shake of the hand is as far as they have gone since the day Louis was cuddled up against him, and when Eric’s around, Harry won’t even go near Louis. They can never have a steady guys night out with the four of them because Niall likes to drink a bit too much, Louis gets handsy with absolutely everyone, including Niall, and Eric’s even more of a dickhead when he’s drunk.

Louis is getting married in one more month and Harry’s _so sure_ that’s he shouldn’t. But as much as he hates Eric and, even more, the idea of Louis and Eric being together for the rest of their lives, he can’t bring himself to tell Louis any of this. Louis just seems so happy when he talks about Eric or the wedding or anything, and Harry absolutely cannot be the reason that Louis stops smiling about it. At least he’s not the only one that wants to gag at the thought of the marriage; he thinks Niall’s bordering-on-alcoholism might be a tactic for dealing with Eric as often as he has to, seeing as he is Louis’ best man. 

The decision was announced at a brunch Louis and Eric hosted. Everyone was dressed their best and Harry showed up in ripped skinnies and a hardly buttoned shirt, titties hanging out. He hadn’t realized that the brunch was anything fancy when he got the invite, but he’d certainly felt silly when he realized how underdressed he was. Louis had giggled at him and Eric had scowled, hardly letting Louis close enough to him to even say hello for the entirety of the event. He’d gotten the wedding invitation the following day, though, so clearly Louis has some kind of control in the relationship.

The brunch was also Harry’s chance to make an impression on Louis’ other friends, which didn’t go as well as he would’ve hoped. Zayn seemed indifferent and rather uninterested, but Liam seemed downright skeptical, questioning him over and over about how he and Louis met and just how close they are. He’s been considering just turning down the wedding invitation and returning to his single-friended life of banking, but about a week after the brunch he gets a text from Louis.

_**Louis <3333:** i know theres still a bunch of time but i havent seen ur rsvp ur coming to the wedding right ???_

It’s just a text and Harry knows he shouldn’t assume, but he thinks it sounds rather hopeful. He can’t say no, like he was ever actually going to, anyway.

 _Of course I am, just haven’t gotten around to it :)_ , he replies, and then throws his phone across the room to the couch in frustration. His heart stops for a moment when the phone bounces and almost falls, he _just_ got it and he can’t afford to smash it yet, but it just slips between the cushions where he can forget about it for a while. Twenty minutes later he sends his RSVP to the email address on the wedding invitation and spends the rest of the night strumming out sad songs on his guitar.

It’s only when he’s about to get into the shower when he remembers about his phone, finding it wedged underneath a few pennies and broken chips. He makes his way up the stairs and into the bathroom before he finally checks it to find three text messages from Niall and two from Louis. 

_**Louis <3333:** can’t wait to see you there!_

_**Niall B):** hey i have a few q’s to ask u so whenevr u get back to me i’ll ask_

_**Niall B):** ok lol this is gunna b a bitch to wait so like since im louis’ best mate and im in control of the bachelor party and who gets invited........did u want to come with me and the rest of the the guys??_

_**Louis <3333:** one of the kids im baby sitting knocked a lamp off of erics desk! im laufin XD_

_**Niall B):** ur killin me harry_

Okay, Harry thinks, he’s invited to the bachelor party, which is the time when both sides of the relationship get to be single for a night. Harry could have fun with that. He could also get his teeth knocked in for it, but it’s a chance he’s willing to take to spend a whole night with a drunk, bubbly Louis.

He responds to Louis first with a few laughing emojis, and then reads over Niall’s texts again. He texts back that he wouldn’t miss it for the world, before putting his phone down on the sink and turning on the shower to just less than scalding. He takes his time under the water, washing his hair and body thoroughly before stepping out and wrapping himself up in a towel. The air in the bathroom is so thick with steam that he can hardly breathe, collecting his clothes and his phone and walking to his bedroom. He pulls on just a pair of boxers and flops back on his bed, checking his phone to see he has a few new texts from Louis.

_**Louis <3333:** eric yelled at me about the lamp :(((_

_**Louis <3333:** hes rly mad at me hazza im sad_

The first text was sent while Harry was in the shower but the second one is from just a few minutes ago, and Harry frowns deeply at it. He hates the thought of Louis being sad about anything, but he especially hates the thought of Eric yelling at him about something so seemingly insignificant. He taps to reply, the frown still strong on his face.

_Are you okay?_

He waits a few minutes for a reply, chewing on his lip and worrying. He’s about to press the call button when Louis hasn’t answered a full minute later, but then he sees that he’s typing.

_**Louis <3333:** he wont let me apologize_

_**Louis <3333:** apparently the lamp was really expensive ??_

_**Louis <3333:** will u come get me and take me for a milkshake_

Somehow Harry knows that if he takes Louis for a milkshake it’ll get Louis in a lot more trouble than he’s already in, and there’s a good chance Eric will actually kill Harry this time. He can’t say no, though, he is physically incapable of telling Louis no, and so he sits up and starts typing back. 

_Of course, be there in 10 x_

He throws on whatever clothes are closest to him on the floor and stumbles into his shoes, hardly remembering to even grab his keys before he’s out the door. He texts Louis when he pulls into the driveway but, heartbreakingly enough, Louis is already outside. Louis climbs into the passenger’s seat of Harry’s car and stares down at his knees, and Harry takes that as his cue to drive. He takes them to an American style diner down the street that stays open late and parks the car, before finally looking over at Louis again.

“Are you alright?” He asks gently, reaching over hesitantly to touch Louis’ knee. Louis melts into his side and wraps his arms around him, clearly just desperate for a hug. This is the closest they’ve been since that very first time they hung out, and it feels so good Harry never wants to let go.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” Louis breathes, but he doesn’t pull away either. “He just gets like this sometimes, y’know? The littlest things can set him off. He’s had a hard day. I think he lost a patient,” Louis mumbles, and Harry’s heart sinks. As much as he really dislikes Eric, he can’t imagine being in his shoes when something like that happens. “He just needs some space. He’ll be fine by tomorrow.”

Harry looks down at him and raises his eyebrows and Louis shrugs, finally pulling away from the hug and pushing a hand through his hair. He takes in a deep breath and then just shrugs again, and Harry decides he hates this. Louis is acting so quiet and small when he’s usually the biggest personality in the room, and seeing him like this makes Harry feel like he’s trapped in the bottom of a well.

“Well, c’mon then. You told me to take you for milkshakes, and this place has the best milkshakes around,” Harry smiles, attempting to lighten the mood. It works, at least a little bit, Louis smiling up at him and turning around to get out of the car. 

They walk in and sit down in a booth next to the window, chatting idly until Louis is smiling more than he’s staring sadly at the napkin dispenser. A waitress in a retro red and white striped apron comes over after a few minutes to take their order, and Harry tells her to bring them the most extraordinary milkshakes she can make and a plate of fries. Louis grins at him and then looks down at the table, smiling and fidgeting slightly. 

It takes every ounce of Harry’s willpower to not reach over and grab Louis’ hands, reminding himself over and over that Louis belongs to someone else, Louis _loves_ someone else. They talk about their families and about what Niall did last weekend while he was drunk and about how Harry is thinking about getting a fish to keep him company in his big, stupid house. The last part mostly comes out by accident, and Harry hates the way it makes Louis frown.

“Are you lonely?” Louis asks, and Harry just kind of shrugs, looking down at the table. This trip is supposed to be about making Louis feel better, not talking about Harry’s feelings. “You should try dating, or maybe get a roommate?” He suggests, and Harry just chuckles self-deprecatingly. 

“I’ve tried dating, and I could never deal with a roommate,” he admits, picking at the face of his watch to avoid looking at Louis. “I’ve actually had my eye on someone for a while,” he mumbles. Louis looks a bit shocked when Harry finally looks up at him, but he quickly smiles at him instead. Harry pretends not to notice that it looks a bit forced.

“Oh yeah? And um… How’s that- how’s that going?” Louis asks, his fingers suddenly still as he waits for Harry’s answer.

“He’s quite tragically unattainable at the moment,” Harry sighs, looking back down at his watch. It’s almost ten at night, and their milkshakes still haven’t come.

“Oh,” Louis says, and then he’s quiet for a moment. “Is it somebody I might know?”

Harry chuckles, hoping his smile doesn’t look too sad as he stares at his own knuckles. “Yeah, I think you might,” he mumbles, shaking his head slightly at himself.

Louis just hums softly, quiet for another moment. “Is it that Nick fellow from the park that time?” Louis asks next, and Harry blinks before he starts laughing. He laughs for a long few minutes, until he has tears in his eyes that maybe aren’t completely from the laughter.

“No, it is absolutely not Nick,” he chuckles, smiling down at his hands and then looking up at Louis. The waitress comes at that exact moment, putting two massive milkshakes down in front of them and giving them a wink before walking away. Louis looks thrilled, all thoughts of their previous conversation obviously gone from his head as he takes a long suck on his straw. He moans loudly when he swallows, eyes fluttering closed. Harry has to grip his milkshake tightly and focus on how cold it is in his hand to keep himself in check.

“This is the best milkshake I’ve ever had,” Louis declares, and Harry grins at him. Louis meets his eye and suddenly goes soft, reaching out to grab Harry’s wrist gently in with his cold fingers. “Really, Harry, thank you so much. I needed this,” he admits, and Harry just keeps smiling for a moment while Louis goes back to sipping his drink. Louis’ hand was freezing where he touched Harry’s wrist but the skin feels like it’s on fire as soon as Louis pulls away, which should probably be more concerning to Harry than it is.

**

All the lights are off in Louis’ house by the time Harry drives him back home. Sure, it’s after midnight, but if Harry were Eric he still would’ve waited up for Louis, no matter how upset he was. Louis doesn’t seem majorly bothered by it; in fact, he almost seems relieved. Harry doesn’t read into it.

Louis pats his knee and tells him goodnight, thanking him once more before getting out of the car and carefully closing the door. Harry waits in the driveway for a good ten minutes just to make sure everything is okay, watching the light in one of the rooms upstairs turn on and then flicker back off a moment later. Harry sighs and pulls out of the driveway, going home to collapse in his bed and tries to convince himself he's not that lonely. He doesn't do a good job.

**

The next time Harry has his titties out, it’s acceptable. But only because he’s in a lit limousine surrounded by Louis’ drunken groomsmen, who are shouting the lyrics to _Uptown Funk_ , and Harry has semi-drunk Louis pressed to his side. He’s not complaining, though. Definitely not. Louis had his hand high up on Harry’s thigh a moment ago before he got up to stumble around, dancing loosely with Niall. He looks so happy and Harry can’t help but smile because when Louis is happy literally everyone around him is happy, too. 

Louis turns to Harry with a giddy smile on his face and sings, “I’m too hot,” and Harry whines in the back of his throat _hot damn_ , but Louis goes right back to dancing and acting wild in front of his friends. Harry itches his chest idly before he takes a glance around the car, eyes landing on Liam, who was already staring back. Harry really doesn’t know what the fuck he did to make Liam resent him, but Harry mentally shrugs. It is what it is. 

The car slows to a stop and they kind of figure that they’re at their destination since it’s been _forty-five minutes_. Forty-five minutes of Louis touching him, forty-five minutes of no Eric but still Liam watching him like a hawk. Harry wonders if Eric paid him to be like this, or something. They all get out of the car and are welcomed warmly, pushing their way into the club. It’s all flashing lights, hot air, and bodies plastered together. Harry’s sure Niall’s in heaven. 

They all go their separate ways, planning on meeting back together at some point in the night. Harry’s alone, of course, so he honestly has no other choice but to get a lot more drunk than he already is and try to have a fun time while he pretends Louis’ not getting married in less than 24 hours. 

And it kind of works as Harry’s sitting in a booth, watching people and sipping his drinks quietly. He feels a tap on his shoulder after a while, drawing his attention away from the cubes in his drink. He can tell that it’s Louis, even in the darkness of the room and the flashing of the strobe lights, and he looks messy. His hair is all over the place, his chest is flushed and his red v-neck is scooping down dangerously low, his bare neck on display for the whole world to see. Harry isn’t drooling, but he does wonder if some lucky person has taken a shot out of his collarbones. 

“Havin’ a good night?” Harry asks, a little breathless. Louis nods nonchalantly just as he nudges himself up against Harry. He’s like a heater in an already too hot room and it only gets worse when he places his head on Harry’s shoulder, his sweaty fringe sticking on Harry’s neck. He shivers a little, deciding that now would be a good time to take a drink.

“Have you been here all night?” Louis asks, looking up at him.

Harry shakes his head, setting his empty cup down. His chest rises sharply, concealing a potentially loud hiccup. “I got up to get more drinks.”

Louis laughs, eyes crinkling shut and chest shaking. He sits up completely, patting Harry’s thigh. “C’mon.” He stands back up, grabbing Harry’s hand now, and Harry looks up at him (as if he wasn’t already). 

“Where are we going?” He questions, getting up but not letting go of Louis’ hand. He has a hold of it partly because Louis hasn’t let his go, so it’s only fair. Louis laughs again, louder this time, shaking his head. He pulls them out on to the dance floor and Harry nearly falls to the ground because no, he doesn’t dance. His baby horse legs can barely carry him when he’s just walking, let alone dancing. He’s behind Louis, shaking his head and pleading _no no no_. 

“C’mon and dance with me, Harry,” Louis begs, his hand tightening on Harry’s. Harry finally nods, seeing as this is probably going to be the last night he gets to see a ‘single’ Louis. 

Louis initiates it, of course, taking Harry’s considerably larger hands and placing them on his waist. Throughout the process, Harry gradually pulls him closer and closer and they’re definitely grinding. Louis has his mouth parted and his eyes are shut and he might be whimpering. Harry would be able to hear it if it weren't for the loud music and the thumping of his heart in his ears.

He's partly confused because _why_ , and _how_. Louis' getting married soon, like really soon, and he's grinding his hips like he was fucking born to do it, against someone that isn't his fiance. Worry washes over him for a second until Louis' lips are pressed to his, which is nice, like really nice, but now he's _really_ confused. 

He's not showing any signs of it because his tongue is in Louis' mouth and Louis tastes like liquor and sweets and it's Harry's turn to be in heaven. His hands have found their way under Louis' shirt, skin soft and damp and Harry is absolutely losing his mind. Louis is carding his fingers through his wild hair, tugging on it every once in awhile. He's whining into Harry's mouth and Harry's there to swallow up every vulnerable noise. 

Harry hates to say that he's been waiting for this since the day he met Louis, but he's sucking it up like he's sucking on Louis' bottom lip. It's nice. His hands shift from Louis' stomach and hips to the ass he drooled over that day in the park. Everything about it is wonderful, honestly. It's muscular but not too hard and it fills Harry's hands perfectly. He's definitely in love.

Louis pulls away first, Harry chasing his lips like a lost dog, breathing heavily and chest heaving. Harry pecks and sucks at his neck and Louis kind of let's it happen while he tries to talk.

"Harry," Louis half slurs, half moans and it's so arousing that Harry fucking _ruts_ against him. And for God's sake they're in the middle of a dirty club and Harry's turning into a bloody teenage boy when he's actually twenty-five, he's so turned on. He hums against his throbbing pulse and it's loud when Louis whimpers this time. 

He mumbles "yeah, yeah what is it?" into Louis' neck and he feels the sharp pull on his hair, making him look up. Their eyes meet and it's startling for the both of them. Looking at each other after that whole ordeal for Harry is relief and solemnity at the same time. 

A hand clapping on the back of his neck snaps him out of it. He turns his neck, coming face to face with Niall. He thanks god it isn't Liam. He'd rather have Niall, carefree and chill over a douchebag who hates him for no reason. But then again, this is probably why he hates him. 

Harry drops his hands immediately, fear getting the best of him for a reason he's not sure of.

"I totally saw you guys!" Niall laughs, poking Louis, his drink jerking. Louis laughs nervously and Harry feels the tension between Louis and him. "But what the hell?" Being drunk is a perfectly good excuse, so that's what Harry says and it's good enough for Niall, apparently, because it has him slapping his back and walking off. He wants to kiss Louis again and never stop, but he knows it's not a good idea. And when he turns around, Louis is gone, leaving him alone again in the middle of the dance floor. He's almost positive that none of them will remember this tomorrow. 

**

He remembers it when he's lacing up the shoes Louis' bought him, when he's fixing his hair in his mirror and when he's making the rabbit hop over, crawl, and run around the log, one more time--because the rabbit is trying to outsmart the fox, and then the rabbit dives into his hole. His black tie is situated on his chest perfectly and looks great. He takes in a deep breath, letting his eyes close shut, his head hurting suddenly.

He's going to see Louis get married in two hours and he has debated on going since the last time he talked to Niall. It's going to be one of the most painful experiences in Harry's life next to the time he climbed a tree and jumped out of it because someone called him a sissy. Now that he looks back on it, he was stupid and needed acceptance but that hasn't changed much either. He's still stupid and he still needs reassurance and to be told that he's doing good and everything's fine.

But when he's sitting in the third row surrounded by Eric's and Louis' family in the church, nobody's there to tell him that everything is going to be okay. Louis' going to get married and Harry doesn't know if he'll be alright.

Eric's eyes search the sea of people and his gaze catches Harry for a moment longer than everyone else, and Harry shifts uncomfortably. Just as the groomsmen and bridesmaids walk together, Harry coughs into his hand, looking towards them. 

Zayn's the first one to walk down with a pretty blonde girl on his arm; they look good with each other even though she's a ghostly white and the color scheme of the dress doesn't compliment her. They separate when they get in front of Eric, the girl going to Eric's side and Zayn the other. Harry looks back at Eric and sees that the man is no longer looking at him, instead staring straight ahead down the aisle as the procession continues.

After a moment the air in the church changes and everyone turns around, Louis appearing at the back of the line. He looks incredible, his hair styled impeccably and his eyes bright and happy. Harry tries not to cry as he watches him walk down the aisle arm in arm with his mother, his heart breaking a little more with every step Louis takes toward his forever. He slumps down in his seat when Louis finally reaches the altar, forcing himself to keep watching as Louis and Eric grin at each other and the whole church gets teary.

Except, Louis can’t seem to stay still. His eyes keep flicking away from Eric and over the crowd of people watching, until finally they land on Harry. Louis looks away quickly, staring up at Eric, but Harry sees that his eyes are still moving, looking back at Harry every now and again. He misses the cue to start his vows and laughs it off, but he looks nervous as he takes the ring in his fingers. Harry wonders if everyone else in the church can see how Louis is shaking, or if he’s just imagining it.

“Louis, do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?” The minister asks, and Louis freezes. Harry feels like the whole world freezes, sitting up a little bit as Louis hesitates and then shakes his head. Everyone is so painfully silent, the only noise in the church being Louis’ footsteps as he steps back and gives the ring to the minister.

“No, I’m sorry, I can’t,” Louis whimpers, and then. And then he looks straight at Harry. Harry blanches as every single person in the church turns to look at him as well, feeling like all of the breath has been stolen from his lungs.

He loses some of the attention as Louis takes off at a run for the door, pushing through and running outside. Eric looks sick, caught between running after Louis and passing out on the spot. It’s no longer silent in the church, everyone talking and a few people crying and _everyone_ looking at Harry. When Harry finally regains feeling in his knees he gets up and pushes his way through the crowd to the door Louis left through, standing on the steps of the church and looking around. It’s a beautiful day, bright and sunny and warm, but Harry feels cold and clammy and a bit like he’s underwater when he spots Louis.

Louis had barely made it twenty feet from the bottom of the steps and is on his knees in the grass, hunched over and shaking. He’s at the feet of a large statue of an angel, which appears to be looking the other way as Harry cautiously walks up behind Louis. He can hear Louis crying as he sits down next to him in the grass, hesitantly reaching out to touch Louis’ back.

Louis collapses into his lap and sobs, making himself small as Harry wraps his arms around him and holds him close. “What have I done,” Louis cries, looking up at Harry. His cheeks are red and wet and his eyes look wild, tears streaming steadily from them. “I don’t- I don’t love him, Harry. I thought I- fuck,” he whispers, and Harry holds him a little tighter. He has no idea what to say, everything he can even think of feels so, so wrong, so he doesn’t say anything at all.

The doors of the church swing open a few minutes later and they both jump, Louis crying a little harder into Harry’s chest as Harry turns his head to see who is coming. Niall is trying to grab at Liam’s arm and restrain him as he marches toward Louis and Harry, Zayn looking nervous as he trails behind them. Louis’ mother is there as well, looking more sympathetic than angry or even sad.

“What the _fuck_ ,” Liam spits, taking Harry by the collar of his dress shirt and hauling him to his feet. Harry stumbles and flinches, trying to get Liam to let go. “Look what you’ve fucking caused, you’ve ruined everything,” he shouts in Harry’s face, and all Harry can do is shake his head and tell him no, this isn’t his fault.

“Liam,” Louis argues, still crying as he pushes Liam away from Harry. “What are you talking about, Harry didn’t do anything!” He says, still crying hard enough that the words almost don’t make it out.

“We all know you’ve been cheating, Louis. We know, Eric knows, and now everyone knows. How can you stand here and defend the homewrecker that just ruined your wedding?” Liam says, and Louis looks like he’s just been shot. He fish mouths at Liam for a moment in shock, and Harry glances around at the other people that have gathered on the grass. Niall looks sheepish and awkward, like he can’t believe Liam is doing this but he clearly doesn’t disagree. Zayn is just looking between Harry, Louis and Liam like he’s not sure what to believe, and Louis’ mom is chewing on her lip nervously.

“You think I cheated?” Louis finally says, and he sounds so tiny and broken when he says it that the whole group freezes for a second and then deflates. Liam reaches out to touch his arm but Louis jerks back, bumping into Harry and looking at Niall. “Do you think so too?” He grits out, his voice barely more than a whimper. Niall flushes and looks at the ground, shrugging one shoulder. Louis makes a noise filled with such pain that Harry almost wraps his arms around him to comfort him, but that would definitely be out of line at the moment. “And you, too? Mum?” He squeaks, looking between Zayn and his mother frantically. Neither of them say anything, and Louis sobs.

“I _never_ ,” Louis spits, turning quickly to shove at Liam’s chest, sending him stumbling back just a bit. “I would never even- How could you accuse me…” he trails off, his breathing heavy and labored as he fights not to cry again. Eventually he gives up, shoulders slumping and a few fresh tears rolling down his cheeks. “I loved him, I swear I did. I wanted everything with him for so long. But as that finally became a reality I started to see the holes in our relationship that marriage can’t fill, and… I tried to ignore it, like if I kept pretending everything was perfect, maybe it would be. But it wasn’t. And then there I was, about to marry him, and. And I saw myself in ten years regretting everything, all the nights he’s not home and the days he’ll go without even looking at me because he had a bad day.” He’s crying so hard now, pressing himself back against Harry more and more as he talks. Harry puts a comforting hand on his lower back and presses his thumb into the dip in his spine, his throat tight and his heart racing.

“I can’t do that to myself. I couldn’t do that to the kids we might’ve had someday, I couldn’t put them through the sleepless nights and the pretending that I’ve been putting myself through,” Louis explains. He’s had his eyes closed for most of the time he’s been talking, and when he slowly wrenches them open they’re red and teary and just so, so sad. Liam goes to reach out for him again and Louis bats him away, pressing closer to Harry. Harry wraps his arm around Louis’ waist reflexively, which earns him another glare from Liam. 

“So, no,” Louis continues, wiping at his face and fitting himself into Harry’s side more easily. “I never cheated on him with Harry. Never physically, anyway. When I was around Harry I was a hundred times happier than I ever was around Eric, and I soaked that up. Spending time with Harry was so refreshing, so different and just _nice_. I kept comparing him to Eric, how happy and wanted and important he made me feel, and. Does that make me a cheater?” He asks finally, looking up at Liam with wide, sad eyes.

“No, mate, that makes you human,” Niall says, stepping forward and pulling Louis into a hug. Louis goes easily, melting into Niall’s embrace and letting out a long breath into his neck.

“I never wanted to hurt Eric,” he mumbles, and Louis’ mom steps forward to wrap her arms around both of them.

“He’ll understand, Louis, if he really loves you then he just wants what’s best for you,” she says. Harry lets out a breath and turns away, feeling like he’s intruding on something. He backs up a bit and kicks at the ground, until another pair of shoes come into his field of vision.

“Hey,” says a voice, and Harry looks up to see Liam in front of him. “Sorry, about all of that. I shouldn’t have assumed,” he apologizes, and Harry gives him a small smile.

“It’s okay, I think. I guess I’ve kind of known you thought that the whole time, but it just seemed really crazy to me,” Harry shrugs, and Liam nods. “I’m not the one you should be apologizing to, though,” he mutters, nodding to where Louis is watching them carefully. Liam walks away and shares a few words with Louis, and Harry smiles to himself when they finally hug after just a moment. People are starting to leave the church, most of Eric’s family already gone, leaving just the people closest to Louis loitering around the front of the church. Liam walks away with Niall and Zayn eventually and Louis looks at Harry, crossing his arms over his chest shyly as he walks closer. It’s just the two of them on the grass now, Louis’ mom and the boys pacifying the other guests and apologizing for the disastrous day.

“Hey,” Louis says, looking up at Harry and giving him a small smile. Harry opens his arms and Louis nearly jumps into them, hugging Harry tight. Harry holds him close and sways a bit, resting his chin on top of Louis’ head. He finds it almost funny that this is the most physical contact they’ve ever had at one time, and everyone thought they’d been sneaking around together the whole time. Louis has his back to the church, and Harry opens his eyes to look over his head at the few remaining people standing around the church. His arms stiffen around Louis when he sees Eric walk out the door, pulling him closer protectively.

Eric looks like a mess. His hair is sticking up all over the place like he’s been pulling at it, his eyes and face red. He’s not crying but he looks like maybe he was, and Harry doesn’t blame him. He feels horrible for the guy, because he doesn’t doubt that Eric really loved Louis the whole time, and this must be tearing him up. Eric scans the front yard of the church, meeting Harry’s eye after only a second. Harry sees his eyes flicker to Louis and then back to Harry, and the look on his face is positively murderous. Harry flashes back to the night in the hospital when Eric threatened him, and wonders if that threat is still standing, all things considered. He figures it is when Eric storms down the steps of the church, brushing off anyone that tries to stop him as he goes after Harry. 

Harry drops his arms from around Louis and moves back a few steps, contemplating whether to try and run or reason with the guy. Louis looks up at him in concern and then turns around, cursing when he sees Eric coming.

“Eric, wait,” Louis begs, trying to stop him, but Eric just pushes him aside, his eyes never leaving Harry’s. “Eric!” Louis shrieks, just as Eric winds up and punches Harry square in the jaw. Harry groans and stumbles back, clutching at his face as Eric grabs at his hair and tries to hit him again. Louis is scratching and kicking and hitting at him, trying to get him to let go of Harry. Harry’s never been much of a fighter, and he doesn’t particularly want to fight the guy that just got left at the altar, but he manages to gather enough strength to shove him away. Harry wipes at the blood in the corner of his mouth as Eric screams in his face, Louis still hanging off his arm to keep him from hitting Harry again. 

“This is your fault!” Eric roars, and Harry just flinches a bit and looks at him. “Fuck you. Both of you,” he eventually spits, shoving Louis off of him with enough force that Louis goes toppling down onto his arse. Harry helps him up while Eric storms off to the car he came in, watching to make sure he’s gone before looking down at Louis again. Louis is crying softly again but he doesn’t let Harry make of it, wiping at his eyes and trying to inspect Harry’s jaw. 

“Are you okay?” He asks, and he sounds so tired, so defeated, so broken. Harry nods, wiping the last little trickle of blood from his lip and smiling at Louis.

“C’mon, takes more than that to take me down,” he tries to joke, but his face is throbbing and he knows Louis can tell. Louis smiles, though, and Harry forgets about everything wrong in the world for just a second. 

“He’s such a dick, I’m so sorry,” Louis sighs, leaning up to kiss Harry’s cheek. Harry freezes, looking down at Louis when he pulls away, and Louis just smiles shyly. “Let’s get out of here, please,” he says, and Harry nods, allowing Louis to take him by the hand and lead him off the grass. 

Louis stops short a few feet away from Harry’s car, dropping his hand and staring straight ahead. “What?” Harry asks, moving around Louis to try and meet his eye. _“What?”_ He asks again, a bit more frantic when Louis doesn’t answer.

“I don’t have a place to live,” Louis breathes, finally meeting Harry’s eyes. “I can’t go home, Harry, that’s his house. I don’t have a home,” he says, his voice shaky as he starts to get choked up again. Harry’s heart breaks for him and he shakes his head, pulling him into his arms.

“Hey, you’re okay. You can stay with me,” he suggests, and Louis just burrows into his chest a little. “For however long you need, okay? I certainly have the space for you,” he assures. It takes a minute longer but Louis nods, pulling away from Harry’s chest.

“I’ll have to, like, get my stuff,” he mumbles, looking at the ground. Harry just wants to see him smile again, but he feels as though this is not a good time for a knock knock joke.

“Do you want me to take you to get it now?” He asks hesitantly, but Louis shakes his head before the question is even all the way out of his mouth.

“No, I don’t know. What if he’s there?” He says, his shoulders hunching a bit as he curls into himself. Harry can’t stop himself from reaching out to hug him again, holding him close.

“Okay, we don’t have to. Just let me know when you’re ready to, yeah?” He hums, and Louis nods. They climb into the car a moment later and they drive back to Harry’s, the music on loud enough that it’s not awkward if they don’t talk but they can still talk over it. (They don’t.)

When they get home Harry offers Louis some clean sweatpants and a shower, both of which Louis accepts gratefully. Harry orders in Chinese while Louis in the shower, figuring they both could use all the comfort food they can get. Louis comes downstairs soft and clean and smelling like Harry’s fruity shampoo and they curl up on the sofa and watch Friends until the food comes. They sit facing each other on opposite sides of the couch with their legs touching in the middle and eat their food quietly, both of them catching the other looking every now and again. 

Harry leaves Louis on the couch when they’re done eating so he can go and set up the guest room, putting clean sheets on the bed and making sure the remote for the TV is on the side table within easy reach of the bed. When he goes back downstairs he finds Louis curled up in the corner of the couch, already fast asleep. He smiles for a moment at how peaceful Louis looks in his sleep, before walking over and carefully scooping him up into his arms to carry him to the guest room. He lays him down on the bed and tucks him into the covers, hesitating a moment before kissing his forehead and turning out the lights. He walks down the hall and sighs as he gets into his own bed, stripping down to just his boxers and curling up under the blanket.

He watches the numbers on the clock change for close to an hour before he finally drifts off, wondering what on earth morning will throw at them.

**

“Harry.”

Harry moans softly in his sleep, batting at whatever is prodding at his nose so insistently.

“Harry, wake up.”

He peeks one eye open and looks up, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the dark room. “Lou?” He croaks, sitting up in bed and pushing his hair out of his face.

“Yeah, s’me. Can I, um. Can I sleep in here? With you?” Louis asks, twisting his fingers together in front of his bellybutton nervously. When Harry looks closer he can see that Louis’ eyes look a bit wet and he nods quickly, moving over so Louis can climb in. 

“Okay?” He asks softly, once they’re cuddled up together under the sheets. Louis nods and then shrugs a moment later, before finally shaking his head and turning over to look at Harry.

“I dreamt about him. I can’t stop thinking about him,” Louis admits. Harry pulls him into his arms, cuddling him close under the sheets and tangling their legs together. Louis fits into him so well Harry can hardly stand it, wondering how he ever refrained from touching Louis like this all the time.

“You can’t stop thinking about him, or you won’t let yourself stop thinking about him?” He whispers, feeling Louis’ eyelashes flutter against the skin of his chest when Louis opens his eyes.

“Distract me,” Louis says suddenly, looking up at Harry with big blue eyes in the dark. “Please, take my mind off it, do something.” Harry doesn’t get a chance to do anything, though, because suddenly Louis’ lips are on his and, well.

It’s so nice to taste Louis without the taste of alcohol getting in the way, and he can’t stop himself from licking out to separate Louis’ lips and get inside. Louis makes a soft noise into his mouth and Harry feels like there’s nothing else in the whole world, only the two of them in this bed. Reality catches up with him after a moment, though, and he pulls away reluctantly. Louis is in a fragile state, he’s broken and sad and he’s just looking for something to make him feel better, and Harry cannot take advantage of him like that.

“Louis,” Harry tries to argue, pushing against Louis’ chest when he feels the boy’s lips trailing down his neck. “Lou,” he tries again a moment later, but this time it’s more of a moan as Louis suckles on his skin.

“Please, Harry,” Louis whimpers, breaking away from his skin and looking up at him desperately. “Please, let me, I want you so bad. Wanted you the whole time, never thought I’d be able to have you,” he whines, his cold little hands running over Harry’s chest and then his hips, moving around to cup his bum and giving a little squeeze.

“I feel like you’ll regret this,” Harry rasps, his voice just a bit breathless as Louis’ hand moves down and digs his nails into the back of Harry’s thigh.

“I won’t, I won’t. I swear,” Louis begs, getting a leg between Harry’s and pressing his crotch against Harry’s hip. Harry gasps when he feels that Louis is already half hard, making a quiet noise as his cock fills up to match. “Never wanted anyone so bad in my life, fuck. Not even Eric. Got so tired of him, it was always the same, please. Please tell me you want me too,” Louis pleads, propping himself up on his elbow to look at Harry’s face. Louis’ eyes are dark and his face looks wild, and Harry is so turned on he could cry.

“Yeah, shit, of course I want you,” he breathes out, letting his own hands trail down to give Louis’ arse a firm squeeze. They both moan at the feeling; Harry’s wanted to do that since Nick pointed out Louis’ arse to him in the park that time.

“Prove it,” Louis groans, grinding his hips against Harry’s again and letting out a soft whimper.

Harry still feels like Louis is going to regret this, if not immediately then at some point. The noise Louis makes when Harry flips them over and settles between his legs switches something on in Harry, though, something that overrides his ability to care. He kisses Louis hard and messy, grinding him into the mattress and reaching for his hands, lacing their fingers and pressing them into the bed on either side of Louis’ head. Louis whines long and high into Harry’s mouth, his grip tight on his hands and his hips bucking up to meet Harry’s every now and again. They’re both still in their boxers and Louis has a pair of Harry’s sweatpants on, but Harry can feel the hard line of his cock through all of the material and it drives him crazier than he thought it would.

Louis breaks the kiss to breathe and Harry kisses down his chest, deciding not to leave marks in case Louis wakes up in the morning and decides he hates Harry for this. It doesn’t seem likely at the moment though, with all of the noise Louis is making and how he’s reacting to every move Harry makes. It makes him wonder if Eric even knew how to make him feel good, after all, if Louis could get this worked up from just grinding in bed.

It doesn’t take too much longer before Louis’ moans get more frantic, and Harry speeds up the movement of his hips. “Harry, please, I’m gonna come,” Louis warns, his voice breaking on a hiccup when Harry reaches down into his pants and pulls out his cock, letting him fuck up into his fist. Louis _wails_ when he comes, throwing his head back and using his newly free hand to grab at Harry’s shoulder and dig his nails in so hard Harry thinks they might not come out. Harry watches his face as he jerks Louis through it, humping Louis’ leg like an animal as he gets close too.

Harry whines in protest when Louis pushes him off, but any argument he has dies on his tongue when Louis smirks at him and then disappears under the covers. All Louis has to do is wrap his lips around the head of Harry’s cock, embarrassingly enough, before Harry grips at his hair and comes into his mouth. Louis reemerges from under the covers after just a moment, his long hair sticking up all over the place and his lips a deep pink from all of the kissing and the bit of cock sucking. Harry gets his hands under Louis’ arms and hoists him up, kissing him softly for a few more minutes.

They fall asleep like that, Louis still spread out on top of Harry with his face tucked into his neck, Harry’s arms around his waist and holding him tight.

**

Louis decides that five days after the big breakup is a good time to go and get his stuff from his- from Eric’s house, and that it’s probably a good idea if Harry’s not the one to take him. 

Niall comes at around 10:00 to pick Louis up and drive him to Eric’s, and Louis looks so nervous when he leaves that Harry almost wants to tell him that he’ll just go and get everything so Louis doesn’t have to. He gets into the shower while Louis’ gone, the water nearly hot enough to burn his skin, and he stays in there for the better part of an hour. When he gets out his skin is pink and tingly and scrubbed so clean he’s surprised he can’t see his reflection in it. He goes to take care of the beds once he’s pulled on a clean shirt and a pair of jeans, making up the bed in the guest room and changing the used ones from his own bed. If it were up to him they would be getting the sheets dirty again later, but he still doesn’t really know how Louis is feeling about the whole thing and he knows that he’ll most likely be a bit upset when he gets home.

Just when he’s done everything he can do to keep himself occupied and he’s about ready to start climbing the walls, he hears the door open and quiet footsteps enter the house.

“Harry?” Louis’ voice calls, and Harry very nearly throws himself down the stairs to get to him.

“Hi, hey, how’d it go?” He asks, opening his arms to offer a hug that is accepted instantly. 

“Fine. He didn’t really say anything when I got there, just kind of let me collect my things,” Louis shrugs, his voice quiet and a bit sad. “He told me he loved me when I was leaving. He tried to get me to stay, but…” Louis trails off and just shrugs again, and Harry squeezes him tight.

“Oh, Lou, it’s okay. He’ll get over it eventually, and so will you,” he assures him, and Louis looks up at him with a small smile. He doesn’t say anything in return but he leans up to peck Harry’s lips gently, taking him a bit by surprise.

“So, about the other night,” Harry starts, and Louis shuts him up with another kiss, startling a shocked little squeak out of Harry.

“I know you thought I’d regret it, and I thought I might too, but I don’t. It’s about time I did something I actually wanted to do. And it was good. Really good. Hotter than anything Eric and I ever did,” Louis says, and Harry can’t help but laugh.

“ _That_ was hotter than anything you ever did with Eric? Oh, babe, I could rock your world,” he grins, pulling Louis close and reaching down to grip his arse. Louis moans softly and puts his hands against Harry’s chest, pushing back into Harry’s hands just a bit.

“Between me and you,” Louis breathes, stopping to whine for a second as Harry massages his cheeks, “Eric has a tiny dick, for such a big guy.”

Harry bursts out laughing at that, sliding his hands a bit lower to grip at Louis’ thighs and hoist him up, Louis gasping softly as he wraps his legs around Harry’s waist. “Let me show you how it’s done, then,” he hums into Louis’ ear, and Louis shivers. Harry smirks and carries him all the way to his bedroom, his suitcase of things from Eric’s forgotten at the bottom of the stairs.

**

Harry pants softly into Louis' neck, both of them sweaty and tired and happy. He rolls off of Louis once he's regained enough strength, collapsing onto the bed beside him and smiling up at the ceiling. It takes a minute for Louis to roll over and cuddle into Harry's side, a gentle finger drawing patterns on his chest. 

"I love you," he breathes out, and Harry grins and pulls him closer. It's not the first time Louis' said it but it still makes Harry's heart beat faster, remembering a time when he never thought he would hear Louis say those words to him. 

It took about three weeks after Louis' breakup with Eric for him and Harry to start actually dating, and they've been going steady ever since. It's been a few months now, and Louis' been living with him the whole time. It was only ever supposed to be a temporary thing, Louis insisted, until he found a place to live. He also insisted on sleeping in the guest bedroom for a while, even though more often than not they both woke up in Harry’s bed anyway. They stopped trying to fight it sooner rather than later, though, because they knew it was inevitable they would end up together at some point. 

Harry couldn’t be happier with the way things have worked out. He still works at the bank and Louis still babysits, and over time Louis has made Harry’s big stupid house feel more like a big stupid home. He brings in little pieces of himself around the house and hangs things the kids make him on the refrigerator, and he leaves little messes that make Harry feel like he’s never alone, even when Louis isn’t there. They work together seamlessly, somehow, and Harry can’t believe he almost got cheated out of this.

He looks down at Louis, who is resting comfortably on his naked chest, and smiles when he finds the boy already looking back. 

“What are you thinking about?” Louis whispers, turning a bit so he can prop his chin up on Harry’s chest and look at him straight on.

“You,” Harry whispers back, grinning and carding a hand through Louis’ hair when Louis rolls his eyes at him. “Always thinking about you,” he hums, pressing a kiss to Louis’ forehead and watching his eyes flutter closed.

“Shut up, idiot,” Louis smiles fondly, putting his head back down on Harry’s chest, his ear pressed to the skin over Harry’s heart. Harry keeps playing with his hair and sings him softly to sleep, smiling to himself as he watches Louis’ breathing even out, tiny snores tumbling from his parted lips.

Yeah, Harry thinks, all those months of pining over this boy he thought he couldn’t have were totally worth it. Everyday he spends with Louis turns out to be the best day of his life. When he finally closes his eyes and drifts off to sleep, the last coherent thought that crosses his mind is that he can’t wait to wake up and do it all again tomorrow.

_The End._

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading :) comments and kudos are v nice
> 
> (if you're on tumblr and you wanna be a pal you can reblog [this post](http://fukcinglouis.tumblr.com/post/115694117488/to-watch-you-fall-by-suspendrs-16klouis-shakes) thanks)


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